


Hell or High Water

by eratothemuse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cheeziness out the wazoo, F/M, Fluff, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eratothemuse/pseuds/eratothemuse
Summary: Castiel has been acting weird. Popping up whenever you seemed to need him. In fact, if you had to define his behavior in one word, you’d choose, “overprotective.” For once, you’re the oblivious one.





	Hell or High Water

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write something for Cas because I needed some more Castiel fic in my life. Fluff? Just what I was craving. This is my first Castiel fic! I’ve avoided writing lengthy fic for him because I always find him kind of difficult to write, so I hope that he isn’t completely OOC! Constructive criticism is appreciated!  
> \- Meg <3 xx

_Shit. Shit. Shit._ **  
**

The word repeated in your mind with each pound of your boots onto the uneven earth, rhythmic as you snapped twigs and dug up the dirt with your destructive path. Now was not the time to worry about Mother Nature’s wrath, not when you had the devil on your tail. You don’t think you’d ever ran this fast, but that’s what being in a life-or-death situation will do to you.

The inhuman snarls and snaps of distinctly canine jaws only had you quickening your pace, knowing the hounds were catching up. You knew you couldn’t outrun them, but if you could just make it to the clearing of the trees---

You push yourself through them, spotting the familiar dark shine of the sleek metal that was more welcome to you now than your own home. Turning on your heel, you make a beeline for it, hearing the scrape and crack of claws digging into pure asphalt. You were really beginning to regret losing your shotgun when they’d knocked you on your ass to begin with.

“Sam!” you shout, desperately wishing that maybe one of the Winchesters would be at the car, “Dean!” You grit your teeth as the force of you hitting the hood of the impala knocks your breath from your lungs when your boots skid on the freshly-damp asphalt, thanks to the summer rains. Scrambling around to the back of the car and fumbling with the spare key to the trunk that was in your possession, you spare a glance at the hounds rushing you, spotting their vague form through your blessed glasses, “Shit, open! Shit!” Just before the one nearest to you can round the impala, you pop the trunk, digging for anything effective and cursing the fact that Sam and Dean took the other guns.

By the time you look up, the hounds are on you and, for a split second, you wonder if this is it.

Whimpers and yelps sound from them as a bright light shines, the same deafening sound you’d come to associate with angels pushing them back.

“Great timing,” you breathe, taking the second he’d given you before the hounds got back on their feet to grab the spare angel blade in the back of the impala. Flanking his back, you give a shaky breath, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, Cas.”

Castiel’s frown was deep, serious, and just about as pissed as you’d ever seen the angel, “What have you gotten yourself into, (Y/N)?”

You have no time to answer before the hounds lunge, deep scratches appearing in your leg as one gets you before you can stab it with the blade. Castiel is more elegant with his blade, practiced as he fought off and finished the last two hounds with ease--- or, at least, more ease than you worked with.

“Why were hellhounds after you?” Cas asks, brow furrowed in concern as he helps you off of where you’d found yourself on the ground, his grace surging through you and healing the wounds on your leg. You gasp at the feeling--- it was so warm, burning almost, and sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. In a weirdly unexplainable way, it felt like him.

Catching your breath, you shake out your leg, giving him a grateful look behind your smirk, “Good to see you, too, Cas.”

“(Y/N),” the gravelly sound of his voice warned lightly. You roll your eyes at him before settling in the deep blue of his as they catch in the lamplight of the parking lot briefly, dark with the shadow of the night around you.

“Just the hunt of the week--- a witch has been summoning those little demonic pit-bulls, binding them to her,” you groan as you remove the blessed glasses from their perch on your nose. “Crowley wanted us to keep his hounds alive, but hey, better me than them.”

“What Crowley wants is not my concern,” Castiel adds. You just shrug and deposit your blade into the trunk of the impala before closing and leaning on it. “Where are the Winchesters?”

“I was supposed to distract the hounds while they went and killed the witch, but looks like the hounds caught up to me before they could do that,” you sigh, tugging your phone from your back pocket and shooting them a message, as well as a pseudo-apology to Crowley for slaughtering his dogs.

“They…” Castiel’s pause perks your ears, causing you to look up from your phone with a raised brow, “left you to fend off three hellhounds by yourself?” Castiel’s hands clenched into a fist at his sides, his jaw set in annoyance.

“I could have handled it, if I hadn’t dropped my shotgun in the woods,” you begin. It wasn’t as if the Winchesters hadn’t let you do things on your own before. This was no different, just an outlier in the fact that you’d come close tonight to getting hurt. Still, you weren’t, so you considered it a win.

“And what would have happened if I had not arrived when I did?” Castiel shoots back, giving you a look that was equally as unreadable as it was intense.

“Well, you did show up, so I don’t get what the issue is---”

“You would have been hurt. You were hurt,” he gestures to your now-healed leg, once again thanks to him. “You should not have been out there without backup.”

“Cas,” you sigh, giving him a curious look, “how many hunts have we been on together that I’ve had my own part to do off on my own? I get that tonight was a close call, but this job isn’t exactly safe, if you haven’t noticed.” He doesn’t seem pleased at your words. Tilting your head at him, you ask, “What’s with you lately? You’ve been kind of… Well, I don’t know how else to say it,” the word comes from you quick, definite, as you define the way he’d been acting the last couple of weeks with a single breath, “Overprotective.”

“I have not been overprotective,” was he pouting? You were certain this was the closest you’d ever seen him come to it. You let out a quick breath of air through your nose in a sort of a halfway chuckle at the sight of him. His shoulders were drooped slightly, but his face was defensive, as if he were slightly offended at the accusation, but didn’t know a proper way of refusing that your assertion was true.

“Oh, you haven’t, huh?” you cross your arms over your chest, “What about last week in Louisiana? You wanted to vaporize that guy who smacked my ass. If I hadn’t pulled you out of there---”

“I don’t vaporize people---”

“Oh, okay, _sure_ \---”

“---but he would have deserved it for treating you that way.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about! What’s gotten into you lately?” you press, not missing how he shifted his weight under the scrutiny of your gaze. “It isn’t like it was the first time some asshat in a bar tried something with me.” Your phone buzzes in your pocket, putting a hold on the conversation while you check the text in your group chat.

_**Dean Winchester:** Ganked the witch. Don’t worry about the hounds. Crowley can deal. We aren’t PETA._

_**Sam Winchester:** Cas is there? Thought he was gonna sit this one out?_

You ignore them, choosing instead to focus your attention back at the angel before you, but as you look back up, the flutter of wings comes before he’s gone, “Cas?” You were frowning now. What had gotten into that angel? He was acting so strangely lately. With an annoyed groan, you look back to your phone, choosing instead to message them individually rather than in the group chat so Cas wouldn’t see.

_**(Y/N):** I’m at the car. I think there’s something up with Cas._

* * *

“What do you mean? Cas is always weird!” Dean huffs as the impala roars down the road. Lebanon was 40 miles out, and you’d spent the last five miles telling the brothers of your worries for Castiel’s strange behavior.

“Not like this, Dean,” you shake your head, looking him in the eye through the rearview from your spot in the backseat. “You haven’t noticed it?”

Sam shakes his head, lips pulled downwards innocently, “Not really. He’s seemed like same ol’ Cas to me.”

“Maybe he’s just been different around you,” Dean offers his thought up for scrutiny, making you lean forward in your seat as your brows come together in confusion.

“Why? I mean, we’ve known each other forever. What’s so different now? Am I all-of-a-sudden super incompetent at hunting or something?”

Sam snorts, “I doubt that’s the reason he’s hovering, (Y/N).”

Dean shrugs, turning up the next Led Zepplin song that hits through the radio, “Sounds to me like he’s got a thing for you. Now, shut up, I wanna’ hear this one!”

“Wha---?”

Dean cuts off your question with a loud, “Shhh,” before belting out the lyrics as they ring through the impala’s speakers. You lean back into the cool leather seat, face heating with each passing chorus as you stewed on the thought.

Cas, into you? It was almost too much to believe, especially since you’d convinced yourself there was no way in hell Castiel would ever look at you in that way. When you’d first met the boys, it hadn’t been long before you became acquainted with Castiel. At the time, you’d thought it was a particularly cruel joke for God to put an angel in a vessel like that. To say the least, your crush had been huge from the get-go. Then, the more you spoke to him and got to know him, you knew God was having a fabulous laugh at your expense.

He was everything you were into. Sweet, strong, and just a hint of adorable innocence that had you melting. Castiel was dangerous to you, because even when he did something wrong, you found you convincing yourself that it was for the right reasons. All it took was an apology to have you back on his side. You fell, quick and fast and like a brick into a well--- head-over-heels for Castiel. The worst part was that he was completely oblivious and you knew good and well you’d never have the courage to tell him. You settled for friendship and, over the span of days and months, the dull ache in your heart for him had been filled just barely enough.

You couldn’t get your hopes up over some off-handed comment from Dean that he probably wasn’t even serious about to begin with. Yeah, he just wanted to shut you up, is all. That has to be it.

The dark silhouettes of trees passed you by, only somewhat illuminated by the impala’s headlights as she drove down the highway on her path back to the Bunker. Dean’s classic rock playlist was only halfway being listened to by you as you leaned on the edge of the door, staring out the window as you tried to come up with any other explanation for Castiel’s behavior or what you planned on saying to him when you saw him again.

All too soon, Dean was pulling into the garage alongside the other classic cars that lined the Bunker’s driveway. Setting the impala in park and removing the keys, the music, one of ACDC’s soncgs, cuts off mid-chorus. Grabbing your bag, you exit the car alongside Sam and Dean, stretching your back after the long drive.

“I could use a month-long nap,” Sam groans as he twists at the waist before grabbing his duffel and nodding to you, “Night.”

“Night, Grandma,” Dean scoffs, making you giggle. You all knew he was equally as exhausted, but far be it from Dean to pass up a moment to tease Sam.

“Night, Sammy,” is your send-off sparing him a small wave before bending over to fish the rest of your things from the back of the impala. Dean would hate if you left your crap back there. When you stand back up, you jump at Dean’s presence behind you, “Jeez, Dean!”

“Jumpy,” he holds up his hands in an I-mean-no-harm sort of way, smirk dancing around his teeth before he slips them into his jeans. “But, look, I really think you should talk to Cas if you’re so bothered about how he’s been acting.”

“Still on that? It’s no big deal,” you wave him off, not really wanting to talk about your uncertainties anymore. Dean just gives you a look, knowing better than that.

“Yeah, sure,” he didn’t sound at all convinced. “If Cas finally got the good sense to be into you, I’d say it’s about damn time he realized how you feel about him.” Your protest chokes in your throat at his bluntness--- were you really that obvious? Did everyone but Cas know how you felt? Before you can respond, Dean’s already turning on his heel to head further into the bunker, his voice echoing off the garage walls when he adds, “Settle it, (Y/N).”

“You think you know everything, huh, Dean?” you call after him, getting a grin flashed your way before he disappears beyond the doorway.

“Nah, but I know Cas and I know you.”

You huff, carding your fingers through your hair a little rougher than usual with the stress of the feelings you had rushing around inside you. Your stomach was doing flips. Holding the strap to your bag a little tighter, you make your way to your room, but not before heading through the main rooms of the bunker. You weren’t exactly looking for Cas, but if you just so happened to bump into him…

He was nowhere to be found, making you frown as you come to your room’s door. You’d had to pass his to get to yours, but his room was wide open and empty, too. Damn, now you felt guilty. Maybe you had been just as oblivious as he had been. If you had made him feel bad, you didn’t mean to.

When the routine of returning your things to their proper place after a hunt was over and you’d completed the nightly ritual before bed, you found yourself pacing your room. You were too antsy for sleep, no matter how tired you were. With a sigh, you plop down onto the bed, giving in. You knew there was no way you were going to get a wink of sleep with this still unresolved.

So, you sat up on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs. Taking a deep breath, you prayed.

“Cas? Castiel? Hey, uh, I really need to talk to you. I know it’s late, but I’m, uh, sorry about earlier and--- well, can you just come here? It’s better to say this in person.” You always felt silly when doing this. As if you were shouting into the void. For a moment, you wonder if he’ll ignore your prayer. Then, after a beat, you hear the flutter of wings to your left, drawing your eyes to the trenchcoated angel standing across your room.

“What is the matter, (Y/N)?” he seemed genuinely concerned, though his eyes averted yours. You felt your stomach drop. Damn, you had made him feel bad.

“Cas, I’m sorry about earlier. I’m so damn oblivious sometimes, it went right over my head,” you apologize, patting the spot beside you for him to come and sit down. It was a gesture not only for his sake, but for yours. You needed to feel more casual. More comfortable, like you usually were around him.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Castiel begins, hesitating before making the way over the the bed and sitting beside you. He sunk the bed with his weight, dipping you slightly towards him. You shift in an effort not to get too unbearably close.

“Maybe I’m reading into things too much, but I’ve gotta’ say this before I completely lose my mind overthinking it. If I’m wrong, okay, we don’t ever have to talk about this again and we can keep going on as we have been, because I love being your friend, Cas, and I don’t want anything to mess that up, let alone what I’m about to say,” you were rambling, but you couldn’t stop yourself. It was coming from you involuntarily, gushing from your mouth with no filter. Castiel is patient with you, though. He just sits there, studying you with a curious look in his eyes. Letting you finish your rant at your own pace. “Okay, so, you’ve been acting different--- don’t deny it,” you stop him from the protest about to fall from his slightly parted lips, shaking your head, “you have. And, at first I was confused about it, because maybe I was so completely caught up in my own little bubble I’d created to protect myself to even think of a reason why. Maybe I’m completely off the mark, but if you’re acting different because you feel some way about me you didn’t before, now is the time to speak up, because I have felt this way about you for the longest time, and I don’t want to miss it going over my head---”

Castiel’s patience wanes and you trick yourself into thinking that’s hopefulness you spot in his eyes, “What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”

Taking a deep breath, you just say it, “Cas, I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings. I’ve known for a while, but never said anything. I love you, Castiel.”

Castiel’s brows raise at your confession, surprise evident in his features as he asks, “You do?”

“Yeah,” you manage an awkward chuckle, “I do.” You wait and wait for what feels like forever for him to say something, feeling your heart drop with each passing second. God, how did you let Dean talk you into doing this? This was the worst idea. Of course he didn’t feel the same way---

Before your thoughts can spiral into even more negativity, Castiel’s hand reaches forward, slipping around your neck gently as his head dips towards you. Your eyes widen a fraction when you realize what he intended to do.

His lips were better than you imagined. His kiss was warm, framed by the stubble that never seemed to be entirely tamed by a razor. Cas kissed you slow, his fingertips stretching along your jawline and setting you on fire for him. You kissed him back languidly, not wanting to take this too fast and enjoying the lazy pace he set. Just as your hands reached forward to feel the fabric of the dress shirt against his chest, he’s leaning back, leaving you wanting for the kiss he was ending.

“Castiel,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering open to catch the intensity that were his own. His were dark, veiled by the dim lighting of the room, but you notice his lips quirk up at the sound of his name on your lips.

“I have harbored romantic feelings for you, as well,” his confession relaxes you almost immediately, your heart hammering in your chest slowing just a fraction. His thumb caresses your cheek as you lean into his touch, watching his lips form the words, “I love you, too.”

“Cas?” you ask, getting a deep hum in response from him. “I think you being protective of me is kind of cute.”

The blush you get from him at that leaves you biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep your smile at bay, before he sheepishly admits, “Perhaps I have been a little overprotective of you lately, as you said.”

“Hey,” you let your fingers slip down his chest, taking his hand in your own, “if there’s anyone I’d want looking out for me, it’d be you, Cas.”

“I will protect you to the best of my ability. I believe the saying is, come hell or high water?”


End file.
